Crimson
by Aaniat
Summary: Zella Fitzgerald has been on her own for as long as she can remember. She isn't the biggest converser, and would always opt for the opposite of interaction if given a choice. Bellamy Blake, on the other hand, loves to make Zella do everything she rather not do.
1. Chapter 1

She groaned as she opened her eyes, squinting initially in an attempt to adjust her vision to her surroundings. Wherever she was appeared to be very dimly lit but, thanks to the abundance of noise that felt like nails being hammered into her skull from every possible direction, she had a hard time comprehending what was going on. She felt groggy, confused and - worse of all - nauseous, as if she had been sedated... because she had been.

"Hey, you're up."

Straining her neck, she rubbed her eyes before turning towards her source of concern, blinking hard and quick a couple of times to focus on the person seated near to her. A boy not older than 18 with goggles sitting atop the head of his lanky frame grinned at her from beside another shorter boy who was seated in between her and the boy that had spoken to her. She furrowed her eyebrows and slowly turned her head to look around, taking in her surroundings as she tried to remember where she was and how she had gotten there.

As she observed the dozens of kids strapped into their seats along the perimeter of where-ever-they-hell-they-were, her memory flooded back into her head. She remembered sitting on the bed in her cell when the guards had rushed in, demanding her to stand with her front against the nearest wall and hands raised and clasped behind her head; she remembered how one of them had grabbed a hold of her wrist and clasped a silver wristband onto it, its needles sinking into her skin, which she noticed she still had on; she remembered standing calm and still through it all, even when they had turned her around and injected a substance into her neck, one that she had later realised to be a sedative as she struggled against its affects, the guards dragging her relapsing body out of the cell; and, last of all, she remembered the last words she'd heard before blacking out in one of the Ark's corridors: "Enjoy the dead Earth, darlin'."

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the drop ship - now aware that she had been put in one - had come to a halt and everyone was pulling off their seat-belts and making their way to the lower level. The two boys next to her had also left, making her unstrap herself and head down the ladder beyond the trapdoor. Everyone crowded around the ground-floor of the drop ship, and she found that she did not have the effort nor did she care enough to rummage through that many people and see what was happening. She heard people talking and could make out the words 'Octavia' and 'brother' over the commotion, but remained clueless as to what the topic of discussion was towards the front.

Soon enough, the door of the drop ship opened - or was opened by someone deliberately, she didn't notice. Once people realised no one had dropped dead due to exposure, meaning the air wasn't toxic, they rushed out, shouting and cheering as they did. She waited for everyone to clear out before exiting, slowly walking down the ramp as she absorbed the miracle around her. Trees shades of green she didn't know existed, reaching heights she wasn't sure were possible to reach, surrounded the small clearing the ship had landed onto. The grass-covered ground felt foreign beneath her boots, even more so when she bent down to take them off, having the urge to feel the earth beneath her bare skin and nothing in between.

This was the home of her ancestors, this was where they belonged. Not because of the twisted ideas of national identity and ownership through birth-right that she was aware had started the Nuclear War and ended the world in the first place, but because the human race - inclusive of her ancestors and the ancestors of every single human being that existed, both on the ground and on the Ark and even elsewhere if there were any - belonged on earth, and were native to it and nowhere else; not the Ark, not bloody Jupiter. There was no denying it. All accounts of the creation and preservation of mankind led to the confirmation of this one fact. Whether it was to be looked at religiously — where all major religions of the world such as Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism and so many more all believed that God created Earth with perfect conditions for the human race — or scientifically — with empirical evidence that claimed that, through evolution, the earth's conditions gave birth to the human race, making it inhabitable, adaptable and survivable by them.

Feeling the grass beneath her feet as she walked around, boots held in one hand, she felt the corners of her mouth turn up in the slightest of manners as she gazed around, relishing the first feeling of joy she'd felt since she could remember. It was short-lived, however, as she found herself bumping into someone's back, startling her as she stumbled back slightly. The figure turned around, and she took the time to study his face. He stood tall, with chocolate brown eyes that hooded under furrowed eyebrows. His nose was thin and crowded with freckles that spread to his cheeks, with lips so straight they seemed pursed, except for then when they turned into a scowl.

"Watch where you're going, will you?" His scowl deepened as he spoke. She noticed his eyes scan her from head to toe and, when they returned with no sign of recognition, he turned, his slicked-back black hair bouncing slightly as he began to walk away. She furrowed her eyebrows as he did so, but decided against saying anything; it wasn't worth it.

Shifting her eyes away from his direction, she was about to head back towards the drop-ship when a girl approached her, unaware that she had just witnessed the entire incident. She came to a halt before her, her straight brown hair fiercely glistening in the sunlight while her doe-eyes seemed apologetic. "Hey," she spoke softly, smiling with her eyes. "I'm sorry about Bellamy. Please excuse my brother, he has a stick up his ass." Brother? No one from the Ark was allowed to have siblings.

She arched an eyebrow but decided to keep her question to herself, nodding slightly. "It's cool, no worries."

The girl before her beamed, holding out her hand. "Octavia Blake."

She looked Octavia's hand with her eyebrow still arched, regarding it closely. The girl seemed genuine for the most part, she just wasn't used to interacting with people, let alone friendly interactions. Regardless, she forwarded her own hand and shook hers. "Zella."

"So," Octavia began as both of them instinctively began walking towards the drop-ship. "What were you—" The sound of commotion from nearby cut her off, making both their heads snap towards where it was came from. A crowd had gathered just a couple of meters away, encircled around Bellamy and three other people, two of which seemed to be arguing. Noticing her brother, Octavia ran up to them, pushing through the crowd to make her way while Zella observed from afar.

From what Zella could hear, a blonde girl was trying to persuade everyone to head to a place called Mount Weather for supplies and a boy was backing her up. Both were being picked on by Bellamy, some other boys and — now — Octavia too. She scoffed at the sight before, crossing her arms.

"Look at this everybody," She heard one of the boys with Bellamy say as he pushed the one that had teamed up with the blonde girl. "It's the chancellor of EartH."

Upon hearing this Zella cocked her head to the side and furrowed her eyebrows. Was this Chancellor Jaha's son? She could see the resemblance, but she wasn't sure. Either way, it's not like she cared and, with that thought, she decided to walk away. Picking up two shards of metal that she guessed were part of the debris from the drop-ship's landing, she strode towards the other side of the vessel she had arrived in and sat down on the grass, leaning against the now cool surface. She began scraping and sharpening one piece of metal with the other, tuning out the noise and fuss of people around her. Zella sat their for what seemed like seconds but probably was quite a bit more considering the crowd had dispersed and some of the people that had been roaming around, including Octavia, were nowhere to be seen. She guessed that they had gone to look for 'Mount Weather', wherever that was.

"We don't like making friends on Earth?" Zella looked up to see the source of her disturbance. The boy that had pushed 'the chancellor of Earth' earlier stood before her, smirking as he stared down at her. "Name's John Murphy, and you are?"

"No one of importance." Zella went back to scraping the metal in her hands, hoping he'd get the hint and leave her alone...

... he didn't.

"We're the 100, baby, we're all important. Didn't you hear Jaha on the big screen on your way down?" John Murphy scoffed while she continued with her scraping, not bothering to look up again. Despite what it seemed, she heard and processed every word he said, finally learning that a total hundred of delinquents had been sent down inclusive of her. Zella frowned; hoheavily had she been sedated to have remained unconscious through the entire thing? "The expendables."

"Lucky us." She mumbled, hoping he'd leave her alone even though she knew he wasn't going to go away anytime soon. She knew how the minds of people like John Murphy worked: they weren't satisfied until they absolutely infuriated the living soul of their subjects of interest, and that's exactly what he was trying to do to her.

"So what were you in for, darlin'?" She could practically hear the mischief seethe in his voice. "Murder?"

Zella blinked as a spark lit up in her mind, shedding light upon memories she tried keeping in the dark most of the time, memories that flooded her thoughts every time she tried to sleep and hid themselves when she didn't have the luxury to rest. An image made its way back into her conscience: a mere child cradling the head of her frenzied mother in her lap. She could practically feel the sweat that had visibly formed on the little girl's forehead, the sounds of her mother's suppressed sobs ringing in her ear as if someone was actively whispering them into it.

"Yes," The tonality of Zella's voice did not mirror her thoughts as her gaze settled onto the ground before her. She sounded calm, unfazed and serious, just like always. One would have to notice the tiniest details in her actions and behavior to realize when, despite how she seemed, she was anything but calm and unfazed. But no one ever tried to read between the minuscule lines of her being, which is why John Murphy failed to notice how Zella had cut the inside of her finger with the shard of metal in an attempt to distract herself from her thoughts. And, for what it's worth, it had worked.

However, John Murphy — as she had predicted — was not done with her. She heard him laugh quietly, obviously amused at her response. "Hey Bell!" He called out to someone she guessed was Bellamy given the nickname, who was presumably nearby; Zella didn't bother looking up. "Looks like we have a scary murderer on the loose!"

The sound of feet bouncing off the grassy, muddy, covered-in-leaves ground approached them and she looked up to see Bellamy jog up to where she was sitting, making her sigh and stand up. She wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone's bullshit, except that's all that John Murphy had seemed to throw at her so far and Bellamy appeared enthusiastic to contribute. "Is that so?" The freckled man smirked as he came to a halt before the, raising his eyebrows in amusement. "Careful now Murphy, wouldn't want to stir the beast awake."

Zella rolled her eyes, wanting to do nothing with this conversation, and attempted to walk past them as they huddled around her. Her entire motive behind straying away from the crowd and settling on the further side of the drop-ship was that people would stay away from her, yet here she was, being verbally probed by who she assumed were the two most infamous boys of the lot so far.

Just as she brushed past them, she felt a hand grab her arm, jolting her to a halt. She turned her head and found Bellamy holding onto her, his smirk deepening into the sliest of smiles. "Did I stir it awake?"

Zella squinted her eyes, incensed at his audacity. She despised skin-on-skin contact, so much so that even the prison guards knew better than to touch her unless it was absolutely necessary. Yet here Bellamy Blake stood, gripping her bare arm as his short fingernails managed to dig holes into it. Ripping her arm away from his grasp with force that caused his own arm to jerk forward, she stared at him with a blank expression. "Don't fucking touch me ever again."


	2. Chapter 2

Zella sat on the ground, scraping another piece of metal with the sharpened dagger she had made out of the previous piece. As beautiful as earth was, she was no stranger to the fact that all good things come to an end; eventually, so would their thus-far peaceful life on the ground, and she wanted to be prepared. Besides, it's not like she had anything else to do.

The sound of footsteps coming her way made her stop and look up, arching an eyebrow as the boy she'd come to learn the name of as 'Wells Jaha' — who was, as she had suspected, the chancellor's son — came and sat besides her. She had momentarily observed him arguing over something with Murphy nearby, but had paid no heed to it.

"Can't even spell 'die' right, that idiot," He grumbled as he slumped down a couple of feet next to her, bending his knees so he could rest his arms atop them. "He's going to be the death of everyone in this camp, him and that _stupid_ Bellamy everyone seems to be following blindly."

Zella chose to stay silent as she sat crossed-leg, listening to the boy with her eyes focused forward. She wasn't sure as to why he'd chosen her of all people to sit next to and complain. Maybe she appeared more inviting that she liked to believe. _Is that why Murphy had approached her too_? Zella scowled at the thought, clearly not pleased with having to interact with people so regularly.

Any normal person would have taken her silence as a sign of disinterest, but Wells kept going on. "Im Wells. I don't think I've ever seen you on the Ark so I'm sorry but I don't know your name."

She looked at him through the corner of her eye, before going back to work on her dagger. "Zella."

She felt Wells nod from beside her but asked her nothing further, something she was grateful for. Silence took over them once again and they sat like that for a couple of minutes. People around them were running around, making the best of their time on the ground. Trees surrounded the small space upon which the drop-ship had landed, sparse and small around the immediate circumference, dense and tall as they blended into the forest. The sound of people rhythmically banging their hands onto barrels from the drop-ship that were now being treated like make-shift drums could be heard, laughing as they did so.

She felt Wells's body tense up, as if he was about to get up, and sighed. "Why are you bothering with them? Do what you need to survive," She turned her head to look at him and noticed him eyeing her carefully, clearly not expecting her to converse. "And don't be so sour about Murphy and Bellamy. Murphy would be like this in any corner of the world. As for Bellamy…" She scoffed at the thought, visibly unimpressed by his demeanor. "People have single-handedly ended the world under the false pretense of leadership and concern vested in 'the interest of the people'. Bellamy's only feeding his ego."

"So what do you expect me to do?" Wells looked at her incredulously, the frustration clear in his face. _Poor guy,_ Zella thought. _He actually cares._ "Just sit here and watch while…"

She shot her head up to look at him as he trailed off, not completing his sentence. "While what?"

Wells didn't answer but instead shook his head, his eyes finding the ground as he spoke. "Nothing."

Zella rolled her eyes. ""i know the Ark is dying, Wells. Only an idiot wouldn't be able to figure that out, given its less than adequate standard of living. Even our rations need rationing."

"So should I just sit here and watch everyone up there eventually die? Because that's what's gonna happen if we don't somehow let them know that earth is survivable."

She sighed, not knowing what to say to the boy. She understood how he felt — or, at least tried to empathize — but there was no way he could directly contact the Ark and, thanks to the fact that he was the chancellor's son, he was also the most hated person of the lot. No one would ever listen to him. "The people on the Ark are not idiots, Wells. They'll figure it out. Just survive till' then."

"Survive?" Wells let out a laugh, sarcasm dripping from the entirety of it. "I couldn't even find water for myself."

Zella furrowed her eyebrows at the dagger she had gone back to working on. "Just a couple of kilometers east from here"

"What?"

She turned to look at him again, finding him — again — looking at her incredulously. _Is that all this boy did? "_ I looked at the map in the drop ship after your group of friends went on their little hunt. Mount Weather was built in the state of Virginia, and — last I checked — the Potomac river ran a couple of miles north-east from where it is."

Wells nodded. "I didn't know that. Clarke said Mountweather is southwest form here so…"

"So it should be an hour's walk away, more or less."

Wells beamed at her response before attempting to stand up, but struggled and dropped back onto the ground with a thud. Zella had noticed that his ankle was injured, which was why he had been limping around the area, but didn't know it was this bad. Must have gotten worse over time.

"You should rest," She tried making her suggestion not sound bland but doubted it came out that way. "I'll go." She scowled at her own words, regretting them as soon as she spoke them. She couldn't believe that she had just said that. _What the fuck, Zella?_

"No, no." Wells protested, trying to hide the grunt in his voice. "I went to look around earlier today too. I'll be fine, I'll go."

"Go where, Chancellor?" Both their heads snapped forward to see Bellamy stride up to them, raising his eyebrows at the boy rubbing his ankle. Bellamy's eyes trailed down to Wells's foot, and then back up with an eyebrow arched mockingly.

"Zella figured out that a river is supposed to run nearby. We were going to go get water…"

Bellamy chuckled, shifting his eyes onto the girl next to Wells. "Murphy and Mbege already ran the perimeter. There's no source of water nearby."

Zella scoffed and stood up, holding her daggers with one hand as she momentarily brushed the mud off her clothes with the other. "Thanks for the info but I'll choose to not rely on the scavenging skills of two dip-shits," She then turned to Wells. " _You_ stay right here. I'll go see."

She walked past Bellamy when she heard him call out from behind her: "How're you going to carry water for everyone?"

Zella scoffed and turned around slightly, enough so she could see both the boys and vice versa. "Do I look like Mother Theresa to you? But if you want some, all you have to do is ask nicely—" Her eyes scanned him before she added, "Fuhrer."

Bellamy rolled his eyes, "I'll get it myself."

Zella shrugged and turned to walk away once again. She passed the kids that had been drumming on the back of empty barrels and stopped, snatching one out of their hands, before continuing onwards, ignoring their whines of protest. Bellamy and Wells observed her from their previous positions, watching her diligently as she neared the denser forest.

"Gonna get your loyal subjects some water or not, your highness?" Bellamy heard Wells speak and cast the dirtiest of glares towards him. Leaving the boy be, however, he jogged up to the same group of people Zella had stolen the barrel from.

"Give me that!" His voice hinted frustration as he snatched the two remaining barrels from them and jogged towards where he saw Zella last. A couple of seconds deep into the forest and he found her striding forth on the uneven terrain, one hand holing the barrel while the other held her dagger. He could see the outline of her other, incomplete dagger pushed into the back pocket of her black jeans, its opening covered by the loose hemline of her otherwise fitted white tank-top. Bellamy hated admitting it to himself but he was impressed with how well she had carved a dagger out of scrap. Maybe she could be of use to him, especially if she used the dagger as well as she made it. Except — and Bellamy knew — she would never help him out willingly, or without her own motive.

Bellamy sighed at the thought, unsure of the hole he had dug and was continuing to deepen for himself. Shaking his head, he discarded his introspection and jogged up to her before she got too far ahead. Steadying himself next to her, he spoke. "Fuhrer? Really?"

"It's only German for 'leader'," Zella mumbled, not turning to look at or acknowledge him. She walked forward, faster than she had been walking before, hoping he'd keep behind.

Much to her dismay, he didn't. "Not that I owe you any fucking explanation," She heard him scoff. "But if those guys come down here, _all_ of us are going to be behind bars and punished in accordance to the exodus charter, _you_ inclusive, irrespective of wether your crime was murder or not."

Zella's breath hitched in her throat at the mention of murder, her thoughts threatening to trail off again. She clasped her hand tight around her dagger, feeling its sharp edge sink into the inside of her palm. Shifting the dagger in her hand, she smoothed her fingers over the cut, frowning when she felt the wet blood. She didn't like harming herself, but the stinging kept her mind diverted.

She chose not to respond to Bellamy for a number of reasons, one being that she didn't want to contribute to his current motion of debate, another being that she didn't feel like talking in the first place. Bellamy, on the other hand, had other plans.

"These kids deserve better than to be used as lab rats only to be caged again," He went on again, his deep voice booming around the suspiciously quiet forest. "I don't understand how Wells can't empathize with that."

Zella almost snorted, breathing out of her nose. She knew Bellamy wasn't meant to be a part of the 100, she'd overheard a pair of girls talking about it. He'd stolen a guard's uniform to plant himself into the drop-ship to protect Octavia. The act itself was commendable, but it was funnily ironic that _he_ of all people used notions of freedom and revenge against the council to gain the kids' trust. He was never not free on the Ark, he had never been locked up. How could he possibly understand their agony and suffering? Despite what was formulating in her mind, Zella kept quiet. Not only was the man not worth the effort of a discussion, she also had no particular interest in establishing righteous leadership. It wasn't her fault they were all stupid and couldn't pick well for themselves.

They'd been walking in silence for a considerable amount of time when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bellamy turn her head towards her. "You're not a big talker, are y—"

Zella held finger up, cutting him off mid-sentence. Adjusting her ears to the sound she'd picked out, she tilted her finger and looked at Bellamy, signaling for him to listen too. Concentrating hard enough, he also heard it: the sound of water rushing nearby. Looking at her, he nodded before both of them trotted towards where it was coming from. Soon enough they reached the point where the trees came to a halt before a narrow strip of land that ran parallel to a stream of water. It was too small to be a river, but large enough to supply everyone with water for a long period of time.

"Tributary," Zella spoke, walking forth with her barrel as if she'd sensed the question in his mind.

Bellamy huffed. "Enough for us."

Both of them stood at the edge of the stream and began filling their barrels; Zella had one, Bellamy had two. They plunged them deep into the water and brought them back up, making sure that they'd used each barrel to its full capacity. While Zella got done with her one and only barrel, Bellamy started filling his other and noticed hers almost slip out of her hands as she hissed. He scoffed, unaware of the injury on her hand. "You're not very useful."

She scowled at him, placing her barrel down. It was only then that he noticed blood drip from her hands, making him frown.

"Zella," It was the first time he'd said her name out loud. He paused at the reverb of the sound; it felt weird and foreign, as if he'd never said it before — because he hadn't. He'd never met anyone named Zella, nor had he read it in books or seen it in movies. He knew it wasn't an uncommon name but it wasn't the most common of them either, and pronouncing it felt like he was speaking a foreign language for the first time. "You're bleeding."

"I know," Was her only response as she fisted her hands and crossed them, looking at the stream.

Bellamy sighed as he set his second barrel onto the ground, filled to the brim. He felt the need to do something to help her, like the old Bellamy living on the Ark would've, but couldn't bring himself to. Maybe it was how hostile she seemed, or maybe it was the fact that he had a reputation to preserve and didn't want to get people used to him — or anyone else — babying them; maybe it was neither, or a little bit of both, but he didn't do anything and Zella didn't expect him to either. Noticing that he was done with his second barrel, she bent to pick up her barrel of water and began her walk back towards the drop-ship.

Within a little over an hour, they walked back onto the landing area of the ship, Zella holding one barrel with one hand underneath it and one arm wrapped around it while Bellamy stepped in behind her, both his barrels clutched to his sides by both his arms. Water was _fucking_ heavy to carry.

Everyone cheered at what they saw, swarming around Bellamy like a flock of baby birds waiting to be fed. Zella rolled her eyes but didn't say anything as Bellamy orated something about being independent and self-sufficient without help from the Ark.

"For me?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw Murphy coming her way with open arms, smirking as he did. "You shouldn't have."

Zella mustered up the dirtiest glare that she could and snapped her head towards him, making him stop dead in his tracks. She held his stare for a second or two before turning her head forth yet again, walking up to Wells who had stood up from where she'd seen him sitting earlier. She placed the barrel of water before him and walked away, retreating back into the forest, wanting to get away from anyone and everyone.

After spending a couple of hours roaming about near the drop-ship, discovering the things she didn't know and rediscovering the things that she did — plants, fruits, berries, birds and butterflies — Zella headed back, well aware most of the people would be asleep by now. Her prediction proved to be right as the drop-ship came into view. Two campfires — a larger one in the centre and a smaller one to the side — were lit, people asleep on the ground around both.

She was about to seat herself next to the tree that she stood near when she saw Bellamy move in the darkness, gun in hand. Squinting her eyes, she observed him from afar as she hidi behind the tree. He bent over someone and placed a hand on their mouth to prevent them from screaming as he woke up them up, showing them his fun. Soon enough, Bellamy stood up from his crouched position and Wells sprung up with him. Bellamy motioned with his gun for him to forwards and, soon enough, they both disappeared into the other side of the forrest.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Zella let her shoulder slump. _Why must they make everything so complicated?_ Despite her body wanting to lounge and rest, she rushed across the clearing and towards the other side, careful not to wake anyone up. Walking fast, she caught sight of Bellamy's back and hid behind another tree, not wanting to get caught. She followed them north into the forrest where Bellamy lead Well towards a rocky clearing, turning him around. Hiding behind yet another tree, she observed what went on before her. She was too far to hear what they were talking about, but saw Bellamy point his gun towards Wells. Slowly, however, he tucked it back into the waistband of his jeans.

As if on cue, Murphy, Mbege and two other guys jumped out from behind the trees and bushes, running to hold Wells down. Bellamy turned his back towards them as three boys gripped onto Wells, restraining him while the fourth worked to take his wristband off. Zella cringed at the sight, feeling sorry for the boy as he screamed and wailed into the night. She wanted to go and help him but knew it could be of no use. If anything, they'd give Wells a harder time than they already were.

Zella stepped back into the darkness as she saw Bellamy walk past by her. She waited for him to disappear back into the forrest and, when they were done, Murphy, Mbege, the other guys followed suit, making Wells walk before them to make sure he got back. Once Zella was sure they had all gone significantly deep into the forrest, she started making her way back as well.

She neared the drop-ship, entering into the clearing from behind it. Once everyone else came into view she noticed that Wells had lay back down, while Murphy and the others were towards the other end of area. Bellamy sat on a log near the main fire, staring into it. Zella began to walk back towards the tree she'd intended to rest near when she heard him call out to her.

"And where were you?"

She turned her head to look at him, her path of direction now directly adjacent to the log he sat on. "Right behind you, Fuhrer," She could see the color practically drain from Bellamy's face as she said that, even at that time of night. "Whatever the hell we want, right?"

Zella took a step forward before stepping, turning to look at him once again only to find him staring at her, his eyes looking like amber as they reflected the light from the camp-fire. Had this been ten years ago, she would've thought they looked beautiful. "Too bad your democracy doesn't cover Jaha, because his _choice_ was to keep his wristband on so he could be with his father again. Just like you did whatever you did to be with Octavia. You can feed off his situation though," She shrugged before walking away. "Whatever the hell you want."

* * *

 **Here's chapter 2! Hope you guys are liking it so far. I really want to stray away from the typical 'original female character is also main protagonist' theme that seems to be going around. I'm not saying I don't enjoy reading it because I really do, it's just that I wanted to do something different. Also not saying that Zella isn't important - because she is, I mean, c'mon guys, she's gonna get herself (some fine booty) Bellamy - but I wanted to include her in instances and situations that aren't shown in the show, like what happens back at camp when the main people are out doing heroic things and whatnot. Also, I'm sure you guys are all sick of reading the show's dialogues in every chapter of every story; I, for one, have them memorized now. Trust me, I barely refer to the show for when I do include them. So, since you guys already know those dialogues and know what happens, I'm gonna be a bit passive about them so I can focus on original content and somehow merge it into the show. I hope that's okaY.**

 **Okay, rant over. Please let me know what you think!**


End file.
